


you’re the same kind of bad as me

by ohmcgee



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:24:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5195534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DCU, Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne, “I’m not dying without kissing you.”</p>
<p>(And then they don’t die. And It’s all quite awkward)</p>
            </blockquote>





	you’re the same kind of bad as me

“So, end of the world,” Hal says conversationally while he bleeds out, hands clamped over the gash in his gut. Bruce, slumped against the wall next to him, grunts and closes his eyes. There’s blood, dark and tacky, right above his hairline, matting his hair together, and if the world wasn’t about to end Hal would be pretty damn concerned about it. “I thought it would be different.”

“The end of the world?” Bruce says quietly, pausing to breathe sharply in the middle of his question. 

“Yeah,” Hal says. “You know. More explosions. Or robots. I always thought there’d be robots.”

“Mm,” Bruce says. “Skynet.”

Hal chokes out a laugh and it feels like it rips his guts apart. Possibly that’s what’s spilling between his fingers. “It really is the end,” he says. “Bruce Wayne has seen a fucking movie.”

“Hn,” Bruce says. “All three actually. They were Tim’s favorite.”

Down the street, a building collapses. Hal hears car alarms going off as they’re demolished beneath the building’s weight, sees the mushroom cloud of dust and debris far off in the distance. 

“You know,” Hal says as a fighter jet passes over them, headed for the massive black cloud of death and chaos growing bigger and bigger in the heart of the city. “There’s a new one coming out next week. It looks fucking awful.”

“Ah,” Bruce says and Hal feels him shifting around next to him. “We should go.”

“ _Spooky_ ,” Hal says, grinning. “You asking me out on a date?”

Miles away, that fighter jet falls out of the sky and explodes when it hits the ground. The black alien orb feeding off of the chaos grows in size and sends out sparks of electricity. The ground rumbles beneath them and Hal turns to look at Bruce.

More explosions, closer and louder this time, followed by a long, high-pitched screech that hurts Hal’s ears and blows the windows in the buildings down the street from them. The sky turns red and the ground starts to crack beneath them. 

“Screw it,” Bruce says and touches the side of Hal’s face, leans in a presses his mouth to Hal’s and Hal closes his eyes as the world ends.

 

: : :

 

“Hold on,” Hal says two days later when he wakes up in a hospital room, his ring fully charged and his throat painfully dry. Barry hands him a cup of water and he drinks that and then another one before trying again. “Hold _on._ Didn’t the world end?”

“For a few minutes,” Oliver says from a chair in the corner. “Shame you missed it. 

“What --”

“Remember that backup you called for?” Barry says, grinning as he bounces on his heels. “Finally showed up.”

“Shut up,” Hal says. “For real?”

“For real,” Barry tells him. “Every color of the rainbow. Even Sinestro --”

Hal’s mouth falls open. “Shut _up._ ”

Barry grins. “He said you’d say that.”

“Actually,” Oliver says, turning a page in the Cosmopolitan in his hands. “He said ‘tell Jordan you’re welcome and that he now owes me,’ in that tone that just makes you want to punch something. Namely him.”

“But you didn’t,” Hal says, raising an eyebrow. “Because that would be monumentally stupid.”

“I didn’t,” Oliver says. “But only because he kind of just helped save our planet. I hate that guy.”

“Yeah,” Hal says, then a laugh bubbles out of him that he didn’t know was there. “Wow. I can’t believe the world didn’t end.” 

He remembers the moment he just knew this was going to be it for them. Clark taken prisoner, Diana down for the count, his ring drained of power. He remembers being shanked by one of the orb’s fucking electric tentacles, ripped nearly in two, remembers Bruce throwing him over his shoulder even though he looked way worse off than Hal did and getting them to safety. He remembers watching the city crumble as he and Bruce breathed their last breaths and -- 

“Oh, shit”

 

: : :

 

Hal doesn’t see Bruce again until their next league meeting, three days later after everyone has had time to heal from their injuries. Hal wonders how many stitches it took to close up that nasty gash on Bruce’s head as Bruce drones on about property damage and security measures and blah blah blah. He vividly remembers the amount of blood in Bruce’s hair, the streaks of it running down the side of his face, all the color drained from his skin, and then two bright blue bursts of it when he pushed the cowl away and fucking _kissed_ him. 

“ _Lantern_.”

“You’re wrong!” Hal says on instinct and promptly falls out of his damn chair.

Barry sighs and peers down at him. “Are you drunk?”

“What?” Hal says, pulling himself off the floor, giving his sore ass a rub before sitting back down. “No. I just...suddenly remembered something.”

When he looks back up at Bruce, Hal can almost swear he sees him blushing beneath the cowl. 

 

: : :

 

“It was a biological response,” Bruce says when Hal confronts him about it, not looking up from the monitors or taking his fingers off of the keyboard or even _looking_ at Hal as he speaks. “A reaction to the threat of near death and spike of adrenaline in my system. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Huh,” Hal says, pushing away from the console. “So you really are just an asshole.”

He makes it to the second bend in the corridor before there’s a strong hand gripping his arm and shoving him against the wall, a warm mouth that tastes like cinnamon and the rough scratch and burn of stubble against his face as Bruce opens his mouth up with his tongue, kissing him the way Hal imagines he would have kissed him the first time if they both hadn’t been on death’s doorstep. 

Hal shoves him away with both hands. 

“I guess that didn’t mean anything either?”

“I...don’t know,” Bruce admits and Hal almost fucking falls over. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard Bruce Wayne admit there was anything he didn’t know. 

Hal sighs and scrubs at his face, skin still burning a little from Bruce’s five o’clock shadow. “Why’d you kiss me, Bruce? The first time.”

Bruce exhales and pushes the cowl away from his face, tries to smooth his hair down. “The world was ending,” he says. “I just didn’t want to die without having done that.”

“Oh,” Hal says softly. “And this time?”

“Not sure,” Bruce says. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to do it again.”

Hal laughs. “You really do suck at this whole verbal communication thing, you know?”

“Hn,” Bruce says and closes the distance between them, pulls Hal’s bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m really more of a physical person.”

Hal tangles his hand in Bruce’s hair and bites back. “I cannot _wait_ to find out.”


End file.
